


Mission Day

by grains_of_saturn



Category: Final Fantasy Type-0
Genre: M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 06:23:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20092705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grains_of_saturn/pseuds/grains_of_saturn
Summary: Before leaving to undertake his orders to accompany Lady Caetuna, Kurasame visits Kazusa.





	Mission Day

**Author's Note:**

> For the 31_days prompt "This is just a matter of policy." (28th Apr/2019)

"... and above all, it is a great honor to be called into battle as support on this mission. Between the skill of Class Zero and the might of Lady Caetuna, the tide of war should turn in our favor."

Kazusa busied himself as Kurasame spoke, recognizing _that_ tone in his voice. Reporting those statements with an officious tone, letting the fact of his words strike across any mere _opinion_ he might have held. Indeed, the more that Kurasame spoke of those things, the less Kazusa felt inclined to trust them - as if Kurasame spoke out loud to convince himself before any other.

He'd known Kurasame for long enough to know that he wouldn't respond to being called out on such sentiments, however. (He poured the liquid from the beaker carefully, watching as it approached a particular marker-line on the side of the glass. Kurasame had fallen quiet; Kazusa dared to glance in his direction, just momentarily. He sat to the side of Kazusa's lab, close to the lamplight, his head leant against one curled fist. It didn't take any expert to deduce his hesitation, but the reason for that - Kazusa wondered if Kurasame would admit that even to himself, let alone out loud.)

"Indeed. I'm happy for you. She's rather the secret weapon of Rubrum's war effort, isn't she? Of course, her presence is but a show of strength."

"If there are any known to match her power, l'Cie or human, I'm yet to hear of it."

It was impossible to escape news of the battles that took place far beyond Akademeia's walls. _Concordia has sided with Milites. The Empire holds three Crystals underneath its protection. Time is running out, as are the options open to Rubrum_.

Kurasame had long been stubborn; Kazusa felt that he knew that perhaps more than anybody else might have been able to. Straightforward and true, with a blaze of pride that only lay threatened by past regret. _You are the Commanding Officer of Class Zero. You've been selected for this position. You'll go where they tell you to go. Even if--..._

(Again, Kazusa knew that raising the subject of Class Zero being set up as a scapegoat - and thus, so too their Commanding Officer - would only result in an argument. There was no time left, for that or for anything else; hours until the mission. And yet, with that in mind, Kurasame had come here, to the lab. That, in itself, spoke volumes.)

"The risk is far greater than the potential reward, but I should like to see you on the battlefield, one of these days. After all, you're so feared that they gave you a title for it - wouldn't that be worth seeing, don't you think?"

"Well, I--... I can hardly speak for what others say. They still call me 'Champion', after all. I could barely tell you what that means, myself. That I lived?... Is that really such a feat?"

Seemingly satisfied with the liquid levels he was concentrating on, Kazusa sat back in his desk chair with a deep sigh. "It means that you're here, now. It's something, certainly." _Or are you saying that you'd rather have died, back then? Or at some other point, any point at which remorse tore into your pride, leaving you shattered in its wake?_ Again, Kazusa said none of those things. He knew of the things that plagued Kurasame even up to the present moment, the events that left him scarred, the guilt he carried with him. He survived, where others had not. Kazusa suspected there to be few amongst Akademeia's ranks that could say any different; it was merely a fact of war. There wasn't a nation under the sun of Orience that lay without scar of conflict, the loss and wreckage that came alongside it. The former Champions of Rubrum were lost to time and to memory; should their survivor not be their strongest? When it was only the two of them, under darkness and in the silence, Kurasame would think otherwise. Yet, how could he ever know? He couldn't remember their faces, barely knew their names. Had they not held that title amongst themselves, they might have been forgotten without trace. _Like any other casualty_.

"... Indeed, it would seem so. There are many who haven't, after all. And I can't say that I'm not pleased to have you visit here, of course. Somewhat rare to see you here, during the day."

"Not that you'd know. ...Did you never consider a laboratory with windows?"

Kazusa allowed himself to relax, then; he much preferred to hear Kurasame making those small potshots than grandiose proclamations of whatever it was the Rubrum army was to be doing next. He smiled gently, shaking his head. "Sunlight is quite the wildcard, in fact. Why would I wish for a space to allow such irregularities when I could, instead, have full control of any light and heat my research needs? The last thing anybody wants is for some results to be skewed through something so avoidable."

"There really are a lot of things you have to consider, aren't there..."

"I could say the same of you."

"When I come here, it's as if I don't have to think of any of those things. Rather relaxing."

"Well... I'm flattered, I suppose. Stay as long as you want." _Hours until the mission--..._

"Mm. I just might."

Kurasame closed his eyes then, taken by some sort of contemplation. Kazusa took that opportunity to look at Kurasame, really _look_ at him; of course, there was little to discern. He sat with his arms lightly crossed, his eyes closed, his breathing deep and even. _You can relax, here_. Soon would come the noise and violence of the battleground, but until then--... if Kurasame really wanted to do nothing but nap until the siren's call, then Kazusa was quite content to let him do just that.

_You know why they chose you, don't you?... No, of course you know. It's obvious to anyone_. (He couldn't help but approach Kurasame, then; in part, it felt important not to disturb him, but more than that--... Kazusa rose from his chair and stepped forward, knowing Kurasame aware of his movement, but giving it no response. Even when Kazusa pressed his palms to the wooden armrests, leaning in, a kiss to Kurasame's forehead--...)

"I suspect I'm being teased."

Kazusa drew back; Kurasame still hadn't opened his eyes. "Why would you think that? Perhaps it's simply that you looked so sweet, sat there like that, I could barely resist..."

"I don't know; I'd say that was positively restrained, knowing you." Kurasame then opened his eyes, looking up at where Kazusa stood. There was the ease between them that came from the years of their friendship, and yet - Kazusa couldn't help but falter, smiling in return, but unable to hide the concern in his eyes.

"Perhaps so. Unless you think there time for anything more? Class Zero are due to depart. They could call you at any moment."

"I know them. To be punctual is a virtue. Everything must be kept to schedule; should they call me much earlier, that might indicate a problem, which, in turn, would indicate weakness. I think, of all people, our superiors wouldn't wish to display that to _me_."

"I was joking, but I know how seriously you take these things."

"Were you?"

The sharpness of Kurasame's gaze practically took Kazusa's breath away; those words weren't accusatory, simply _pointed_. A stare that didn't waver. Moments of sincerity that, even now, left Kazusa deliciously wrongfooted. Needing only a moment to regain his composure, he gave a light shrug. "Only if you want me to be. The reverse is, of course, also true."

"Hm." Once more, Kurasame fell into some silent thought.

"Still. What does it matter? You'll undertake your mission. I'm sure, as always, Class Zero will return victorious. Raised expertly under your tutelage. You, too, will return, having done whatever Lady Caetuna asked of you. An honor, naturally. I'll find Emina. Maybe we'll throw you a little party, celebrate your achievements on the battlefield. You'll get all embarrassed. Why, I can just imagine the look on your face now--..."

"_Kazusa_."

Again, their eyes met, Kurasame's expression saying what his words would never.

_We both know why they chose you for this. Why they're sending you._

_What they want you to do._

There were a number of things they could have said to one another. Kurasame seemingly had no patience to continue the front of acting as if this was any other mission (despite his previous statements); the only other option was to admit that it _wasn't_ \- and then what? Kurasame wasn't the type for romantic platitudes. There was little they could say or do to stall or change the inevitable. It had been decreed that he would follow Lady Caetuna into battle, allowed only to cling to the desperate hope that she would give them some leverage - any at all - against the Militesi forces at the border. Kurasame trusted Class Zero, Kazusa knew that; he also knew that Kurasame barely trusted himself half as much, but that had been the case for as long as he had been known as the _remaining_ Champion of Rubrum.

Kurasame stood from his chair. "You won't remember me."

"I--..." (As blunt as he ever was, and yet moreso than Kazusa expected - especially today, especially _now_.) There was no denying it, no argument to be made. Even as they stood there together, that, alone, was the truth. "... I know."

The look in Kurasame's eyes softened. "As the Crystal wills it. ...As it has willed so many things. What more is there that I could ask of you? To _remember_... a strange and selfish thing. I suppose, only, I would wish that you do not regret, as I have done. For anything."

That word fell heavy in the air; Kazusa knew it was impossible to know what there was that he ever might or might not regret - even the feeling that this time between them could have some bearing on that possibility, knowing that _this, too, will be forgotten_.

"It would be interesting, would it not? To _remember_."

"Ah, I know that look on your face. Some new theory to explore?"

"No, just... that it would be interesting."

Kazusa felt that it would have been nice to feel tempted into saying things like _I'll never forget you_ or _you'll never be forgotten_, but of anything, he knew that he couldn't promise that. Furthermore, Kurasame would gain nothing from empty promises - nor would he have wanted to. During that silence, Kurasame walked to the edge of the laboratory - but halted himself by the doorway entrance, his hesitation obvious. He frowned for a moment, as if unsure what to say; Kazusa allowed him that, feeling only the same thing in return.

"Kazusa--..." He looked up again, and - while it was not particularly hard to discern - Kazusa was still very aware of the fact that Kurasame was smiling. "... Thank you. For everything."

The immediate impulse that came to mind was to deflect that, say _oh, no, it's nothing_, as if it _was_ nothing - but Kazusa stopped himself there. He sighed softly, crossing the distance between them, taking Kurasame's shoulders in an embrace. It was far from the first time he'd ever done such a thing, and he'd always enjoyed the part where Kurasame didn't know how to react; he could feel the tension in Kurasame's body at that gesture, then his own heart skip a beat at the feeling of him relaxing into that touch. Kurasame wasn't the type to wholeheartedly act in return, but haltingly, he brought one hand to rest on Kazusa's arm. When he spoke, his voice was low and quiet, barely perceptible but for their proximity.

"... This is more difficult than I thought it was going to be."

Kazusa smiled into Kurasame's hair. "That's what I'm here for."

"I have to go."

"I know." (Neither of them made any move to act on that statement.)

"... As you said, Class Zero will return. ...I can't say what will await them, but they will return."

"And didn't I say that we should get together afterwards, throw a party? I know how you are. You don't know everything that's going to happen."

"I have a feeling." (Kazusa felt it too; as if, in that moment, it might strangle them where they stood.)

"I--... I know."

Kurasame disentangled from Kazusa's arms, hand at the door, but still staring at him. He glanced to the side for a moment, then looked back to make eye contact. "It--... would be nice, though. If we were able to do so." He let out a soft breath of a laugh. "Would make a change from all these disciplinary meetings I've been to of late."

"There you go. I'll have to start making preparations."

Again, in that moment, they could have said many things - but Kurasame only smiled, his eyes fond, before sweeping out of the room; Kazusa watched the space where he'd been for what even he would have felt was far longer than necessary, before turning back to face the lab. His current experiment still lay on the table, where he'd left it from before; he'd promised them he'd have the results before the end of the week, but--... as he sat back down, he thought that it wouldn't be too much if he were to take some time, just to reminisce. If anybody asked, after all, he could say he was contemplating on the deep nature of the task before him. (He knew, too, that nobody would ask.)


End file.
